The Quest of Three
by Holly Clairsworth
Summary: Hermione walks in on Cho and Harry. Harry's facing the greatest evil yet.Together, can they complete the quests set before them? Will the quests draw them together, or drive them apart? R/R Please! *Fourth Chaper Posted*
1. A Beginning

The Quest of Three by SweetWood  
  
Hermione walks in on Harry and Cho. Ron discovers a hidden mastery of dragons. And Harry's facing the greatest evil yet. Together, can they complete the quests set before them? Will the quests draw them together, or drive them apart?  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: If you're reading this, you're probably planning to steal my plot. Or my characters. Well guess what? The plot is MINE and if I find out you've stolen it WATCH out! And you know what else? The characters are J.K. Rowling's. So, don't steal. Have a nice day, all.  
  
Where Harry Potter went, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger followed. On this particular day, they were walking through the halls of their school, Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. They were all about sixteen years of age, in their sixth year at Hogwarts. The three were a rather mismatched trio.  
  
The redhead, Ron, was the tallest, and had freckles and held a few assorted books in his arms. The second was Hermione. She was surprisingly rather pretty, with honey brown hair and large brown eyes. She too had books, but a large stack of them, which she obviously had trouble carrying. On the top was a copy of Hogwarts, a History, which was her favorite book. She referred to it numerous times in a single hour, much to the dismay of her companions.  
  
The last was Harry. Some might say he had a rather odd appearance. His hair, black as a cauldron, stuck out at strange angles. His eyes were startlingly green. But the altogether oddest thing about him was his scar. It was in the shape of a lightning bolt, slightly off center of his forehead. The scar was what made him famous. It was a mark of his defeat of the wizard Voldemort at the tender age of one.  
  
The trio had reached the end of the hallway. They veered to the right, down a narrow stone staircase. They were headed to the dungeons for their least favorite class (potions) with their least favorite teacher (Professor Snape). Finally reaching their destination, they pulled open a heavy iron door.  
  
The door's hinges squealed in protest, being heavily rusted. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the eighth, ninth, and tenth of the students assembled in the classroom. Professor Snape sat in his usual position behind his desk. When he turned to look at Harry, he gave him a look of pure loathing. The headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore, had told Harry five years ago that Snape hated him because he had hated Harry's father, James Potter. Harry didn't care what the reason was. He hated Snape the same way Snape hated him.  
  
The dungeon room scene was far from a normal, muggle classroom. Squishy looking things in murky water floated in jars lining shelves on the wall. Only torches on the wall, and flames licking the sides of caldrons lit the dungeon.  
  
Three and a half minutes later, the entire class was assembled and Snape was beginning the lesson.  
  
"Today we will progress from Flu Tonic to Vanishing Solutions," Professor Snape explained coldly. "Does anyone know the main ingredient of Vanishing Solutions? How about you, Potter?"  
  
Now, Harry had no idea of the answer. His classes had not been so advanced to study Vanishing Potions yet. However, Hermione and he had perfected the art of speaking magically mind to mind the previous year. They had discovered the ability when they had needed to speak without hearing in an attempt to vanquish Voldemort's forces, which were trying to murder Harry. The answer came to him in a flash. It came from Hermione, who Harry secretly thought swallowed her textbooks over the summer.  
  
"Powdered hoof of white horse," he answered quickly. Snape looked rather startled. It was their first potions class of the sixth year, since they only had potions one semester. Harry had yet to make use of his ability during Snape's class.  
  
"It seems to me Mr. Potter has finally decided to study over the summer," Snape remarked acidly. Just like him, thought Harry, unable to say I'm right, had to add a biting comment. But all the same he was pleased, and relayed his thoughts to Hermione, who thought back, No Kidding.  
  
The rest of class went by somewhat uneventfully, if you don't count Neville Longbottom spilling half his Vanishing Solution on Snape's desk. The solution was only half diluted, and caused Snape's desk to appear patchy in places where the solution had not penetrated. Neville was given detention and Snape took off fifteen points from Gryffindor.  
  
After potions the trio had a free period, in which they headed toward the library. Hermione was researching the history of all spells, charms, potions, and garments of invisibility, which she found "fascinating." Ron simply shook his head.  
  
The problem, Harry had discovered, with the mind-to-mind speaking was that whenever Hermione had a particularly strong thought, he picked it up. He was continually receiving bits of information about Cradney the Crass, until he said to Hermione,  
  
"Who the hell is Cradney the Crass?" Hermione showed him. He turned out to be an inventor of the Unsee Charm who had the habit of working naked. Whoever had illustrated the book had been a lover of detail.  
  
Ron was flipping through a qudditch magazine. Harry watched as he fairly beamed over he favorite team's stats. Harry sincerely wished the Cannons would get to the playoffs this year. He didn't think he could stand another week of Ron's moaning about the  
  
"Damn Hornets, we'll get them next year, we've got Wood now, he'll show them what a keeper is." Wood. Yes, Harry was still friends with Oliver Wood. He had been drafted by the Chudley Cannons one year after his final year at Hogwarts. He took the time to write to Harry even though he got hundreds of fan letters (most from admiring girls) each week. Harry suspected his lack to respond to his fan mail came from his deep involvement with his current girlfriend, Jenifer, an American witch.  
  
Harry himself was deep in thought. Voldemort had been in hiding since the aurors had killed one of his top agents. She had also been in on his life force. Her death had weakened Voldemort by half. But one half was still scheming, and gathering strength as he did so. Harry sighed. Why did Voldemort want to kill him so badly? He hardly looked like much. He had built up more muscle than he had had at thirteen, but he was still a skinny kid with glasses. Then something broke into his thoughts.  
  
"Harry, I want you to stop worrying! You're at Hogwarts, for goodness' sake, under the protection of Albus Dumbledore himself. You've also managed to single-handedly defeat Voldemort numerous times. And I don't want you to worry Ron. Ever since Voldemort killed his uncle, he's been so afraid someone else close to him would die!" Hermione ranted silently. Harry shook his head. This magical speaking was useful sometimes, but it really got on his nerves when Hermione could pick up his thoughts.  
  
She was right of course. He had to stop worrying! What could he think about that was pleasant? "How about Christmas? A voice whispered in his head. This is the last year to ask Cho Chang to go to the Yule Ball." Harry sat up sharply. That wasn't pleasant! What if she turned him down? He slumped down gloomily. He had one week to ask her. Maybe he'd write her a note. That was it! He got out his pen and began scribbling. What he got out was not dignified, cool, or even very readable.  
  
Dear Cho Cho,  
  
I was wondering would you like to go, no come to the Yule Ball with me? Yours Truly, I mean, no, Love, no no, Sincerely Harry (Potter)  
  
No, that wasn't right at all. He did have two days to think about it. He jammed the note in his Transfiguration book and slammed it shut. He cursed silently as he gathered up his books to head to Divination. Why couldn't Cho ask him to the Yule Ball? That would make things A LOT easier.  
  
Divination was the one class Harry never paid attention in. Professor Trelawney was quite ditzy, and plus, the incense always made him sleepy. When Harry and his friends arrived in the tower, Professor Trelawney announced,  
  
"The great planets have aligned. It is time for a surprise examination." The class groaned. Hermione rolled her eyes. Though she hated Divination, she needed the credit to graduate. She still thought Trelawney and this whole class was full of it.  
  
Trelawney bade each of them enter, one by one. Hermione was the last to go. Though she believed she should never cheat in school, her whole opinion of Trelawney, and Ron's encouragement had led her to fall back on the students' way of getting through Divination: make things up. She was droning on about her horrible death when the moon was orange when suddenly, Professor Trelawney began to speak at a high pitched chant that scared Hermione.  
  
"When the Dark Lord rises,  
  
Three shall turn him back,  
  
One of wisdom, one of fire,  
  
One of midnight storm;  
  
Lo, the circle will be broken,  
  
And one shall win alone."  
  
Hermione felt a chill run up and down her spine. The Dark Lord rising? She had to tell Harry! Already done, 'Mione. I heard the whole verse. Any theories? Hermione mentally shook herself. How Harry could act so calmly at a time like this. But he always hid his emotions, his way of coping. Hermione had to admire him for it. He must struggle every day, and we don't even know, she thought.  
  
That evening, Harry sat in the common room staring at the fire. He too had been disturbed. The last time Trelawney made a prediction like that, it had nearly led to his death. He heard a creaking noise to his left. The portrait hole opened, and in walked Oliver Wood. Wood had returned to Hogwarts to give broomstick lessons and teach Quidditch for a winter job. He had always been like a big brother to Harry.  
  
" Hey Harry. Didn't expect to see you this time of night." Wood sat his muscular body down into a red armchair. "There's a lot of memories in this chair," Wood told Harry. "Here's where I opened my first broomstick on Christmas, and really fell in love for the first time. He smiled. "I was fifteen." Harry thought about that. Sure, he liked Cho, but he didn't love her. Or anyone, at least, not like that. He smiled.  
  
"Hullo, Oliver. What are you doing here this time of night?"  
  
"Just came here to reminisce. You really miss Hogwarts after awhile." Harry nodded. Hogwarts was more like home than Privet Drive ever was. He had never thought what he would do once he left Hogwarts. He did know one thing- he was NOT going to live with the Dursleys. "So, how are things going for Gryffindor these days?" Oliver asked Harry.  
  
"Well, we're currently battling Ravenclaw for second. Slytherin is winning. Little surprise, when Snape loads on the points. The twins have lost us quite a few points. They're really serious about this joke shop thing, and the seventh year dormitories keep having explosions during fourth period- when the twins are free." Oliver chuckled.  
  
"Those twins," he said. "Them and Lee Jordan always made me laugh. Especially Jordan. I've already recommended him to the National Quidditch society. I hope he'll get a job commentating for the league after he graduates." After talking with Wood for another half-hour, Harry climbed back to bed.  
  
When he woke up the next morning, it was pitch black and freezing cold in the dormitory. He stumbled down to the common room. There he found most of his housemates huddled around the dim light of the fire. Harry went to sit by Ron and the twins, who had Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet on their laps. Harry turned his head to Ron when Fred and Angelina started kissing.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"There's a blizzard outside." Ron inclined his head toward the window. All Harry could see was a solid curtain of white. "The magic used to keep the lights on has worn out. All the teachers have been up since four, when the lights went out, working to strengthen the spell but it looks like they'll have to create a whole new one."  
  
At that moment, there was a knock on the portrait hole. Hermione got up to open it. Missy Caymbride and Cho Chang walked into the room. It went instantly quiet. Cho took a deep breath, and said,  
  
'The teachers would like to announce that classes have been cancelled for today and tomorrow." Cheers rang through the room, and Neville dropped his Potions textbook and let out a whoop. The sheer sight of Cho reminded Harry about his note. Maybe he'd ask Sirius about it! Sirius was currently living in the owlery as a guard dog. Since the owlery was in the school, it would be easy to ask Sirius for advice. By the time Harry had finished thinking, Cho and Missy had gone.  
  
Ten minutes later, a house-elf, beaming proudly, brought breakfast for everyone. When breakfast was over, Harry slipped unnoticed down to the owlery. There, he met a large black dog, which he explained all his girl troubles to. Sirius listened carefully, his dog-ear cocked attentively. When he finished, Sirius sniffed around the room, then started speaking in a low voice.  
  
"You know Harry, I had the same problem as a boy. Girls were after me too, but there was this one certain girl who I really wanted to take. Morgan Finch. Actually, your friend Justin Finch-Fletchley is her son. He smiled doggily, and his tail waved like a plume. I finally just went right up to her when she was by herself and asked her. She said yes. Harry, my advice to you is this: catch her at the right moment, and not by surprise. Smile at her, something, to let her know she has your attention. It doesn't have to be that obvious." Harry nodded slowly.  
  
"I was thinking about writing her a note."  
  
"Bad idea, Harry. If she turns you down, she has the note to use against you, as something. I'm not saying she will," he said when Harry frowned. "Just be cool." At that moment, some students entered the owlery. Harry patted Sirius, then returned to the Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Later that day, Harry was lying on his bed, doing an essay for Professor Binns. Then, he heard sounds coming from the spare bedroom. He got up, and peered through the blurry glass window in the door. Two shapes lay on the bed. The red blur of hair told him it was George and Alicia. He had passed Fred on his way up to the dormitory. He shook off the urge to watch. It really wasn't his business. Then, Ron burst into the room.  
  
"Where's George?" he demanded. Harry pointed to the door, and Ron peered into the room through the window. When he looked back he was grinning. "About time," he said. George has been waiting for this since sixth year." Harry started to feel gloomy. What was it with this romance thing? He had never even had a girlfriend. Why couldn't he find that special someone? 


	2. Fireflies and Fantasies

A/N: I have a few reviews. yay. Okay if you'll let me gripe for a second. My friend wrote a really, really dumb, stupid, flimsy, sexy, little story. I put in hours to make the plot great, and not too silly. She gets 33 reviews. I get 1. Why is it that people like to read the idiotic sexy ones? Someone tell me! Please review too. It's not fair!  
  
Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk, writing in her neat, pointed handwriting. She was currently finishing her break period. In a few minutes, it would be time for her to relieve ten other tired teachers in recreating the light spell. In the mean time, she was grading homework. She had reached the bottom of the stack. The last one was Hermione Granger's, who had, of course, turned hers in first. Reaching the middle of the essay, Hermione's report on transfiguring fireflies into lanterns triggered something in McGonagall's brain. That's it! She thought. Walking very quickly (McGonagall NEVER ran) to Dumbledore's office, she gave the password. Reaching the office, she quickened her pace up the spiral staircase into the second tallest tower, where the other teachers worked doggedly in an enclosed glass chamber. Minerva made her way over to Professor Dumbledore, who was advising Professor Sprout on a garden charm. Explaining Hermione's idea to Dumbledore, his face lit up in a broad smile.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, clapping his hands for their attention. Each teacher looked up from his or her work to gaze at Dumbledore. "A plan has been proposed to me, and I believe it may work. The plan, proposed by Minerv-," He was interrupted by McGonagall, who said something to him in a low voice. "Suggested by Hermione Granger of Gryffindor-," He was interrupted again, this time by Severus Snape.  
  
"Preposterous!" He said sharply. "You are proposing we use a STUDENT's plan, particularly one who is only in their sixth year? Ridiculous!" he finished, looking around at the other teachers.  
  
"Professor Snape," Dumbledore said, his voice level. "I have some faith in Granger's plan, particularly because she is one of the brightest student Hogwarts has ever seen, or I wouldn't have even considered it. Miss Granger's essay recommended the use of Transfiguration to change a firefly into a lantern. This will be even better than a new spell, because a firefly supplies its own energy. The lanterns would not even require fuel, because a transfigured object, particularly an animal, is frozen in time until it is re transfigured. Yes, I believe Miss Granger has hit upon it. Now, because of the season, I don't believe we'll find fireflies around here. Hagrid, arrange to have a shipment of live fireflies delivered here."  
  
He stopped talking, and the room buzzed excitedly. All the teachers remarked upon the excellent theory of Hermione Granger, who, they all claimed, was their brightest student except, of course, Snape. He was telling Professor Kettleburn how the Gryffindor house had never produced a great potions master.  
  
"Oh, come off it, Severus," McGonagall interrupted him. "Now that we finally have a plan, we can all get some rest." There were murmurs of agreement from the other teachers. McGonagall looked pointedly at Snape, who turned on his heel and stalked away to his quarters.  
  
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was lecturing Harry on a topic he happened to find extremely boring. Having just uncovered this information from her readings, Hermione was talking on at a rapid pace, showing no signs of ending. Suddenly, she was tapped on the shoulder by a Hufflepuff fourth-year, who reported McGonagall would like to see Hermione in her office, immediately. Harry could have hugged the girl, who had saved him from having to listen to a long-winded "Hermione", as Ron referred to it as.  
  
Harry turned his head to look around the common room. Ron and Seamus Finnigan were engaged in a heady battle of wizard's chess. Alicia Spinnet was deep in conversation with Angelina Johnson, and was smiling and gesturing excitedly. Another Quidditch star, Katie Bell, was chatting with a girl with a blond ponytail, whose face Harry couldn't quite see. When she turned, he caught a glimpse of her. It was Cho. Harry's head told him, "This is your chance!" His gut told him, "Run! Far away! Or at least up to the common room." Then, Katie caught his eye, and motioned for him to come over. On wobbly knees, he obeyed.  
  
"Harry, tell Cho about that game against Hufflepuff. You know, the one where the Snitch got snagged in Mary Floyd's broom?" Harry opened his mouth. This couldn't be any scarier than facing Voldemort. Besides, if he couldn't talk to his date, what was the point? Taking a deep breath, he launched into speech. By the end of his narrative, he had both girls almost in tears, they were laughing so hard. After Katie wiped her eyes, she told him he should be a stress reliever for panic-stricken Aurors.  
  
"Well, K, I've got to get back to the Ravenclaw common room. It was nice talking to you." Katie nodded and started up the stairs to the girls' dormatories, leaving Harry alone with Cho. Harry clenched his fists. This was it.  
  
"Cho." he said. "I was wondering if you had an escort to the Ball yet. You seem to be in high demand." She grinned. He was silently relieved.  
  
"I don't, actually," she said.  
  
"Would you like to come with me?" His whole heart felt like a jackhammer.  
  
"It'd be great," she smiled. Harry couldn't believe his ears. "What color robes will you be wearing?" he asked, barely able to keep his cool.  
  
"Purple. Royal purple." Cho said. "Harry, I'll see you around." She smiled once more, then stepped neatly out of the portrait hole. Harry sat into a chair, hard. He was going to the Ball with Cho. Cho Chang. Once it sunk in, he felt like he had been hit by a ton of bricks. 


	3. Storm Clouds

A/N Come on, please review! I've really been trying to review other people's stories… you know me, I'm a "Hit and run" reader- Read the story, click "Back" and go on to the next. Anyway, here's the next chapter, R&R please, and don't flame unless it's necessary- such as this story is horrible… let's not get into that, from the few reviews I have, I can see it must be pretty decent!  
  
Lying in bed that night, Harry's mind wandered to Hermione, after half an hour of dreaming about Cho. He remembered her mysterious appointment with Prof. McGonagall, and wondered where she was. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her since she had left so abruptly.  
  
Meanwhile, Hermione was trudging down the halls on her way to Gryffindor tower. Hermione sighed. It had been a long day. She knew Harry wouldn't be up, but she wished he could be there to listen to her troubles. Lately, though, he seemed to be preoccupied. She and Harry had grown closer than ever with the magical speech, but all he seemed to care about anymore was Quidditch, Ron, and Cho Chang. Hermione knew she shouldn't, but she hated Cho Chang's guts. Hated her because, well, she was smart, sporty, and beautiful. And worst of all, even though she didn't want to admit it, was because Harry liked her. She had met Cho. She would admit she was one of the nicest girls she knew. That was the problem.  
  
Hermione shook her head. What was she doing, thinking her darkest thoughts in a corridor at 2 A.M.?  
  
Suddenly she felt a shove from behind and was pitched forward onto the ground. She looked up. It was Peeves.  
  
"Student out of bed!" he whooped, loop-the-looping gleefully. He did a little jig, and bowed to Hermione, who was brushing off her robes as she stood up.  
  
"I've got a pass, Peeves," she said wearily, showing him the red slip with McGonagall's signature. Then, someone tapped Hermione on the shoulder. It was Filch.  
  
"What are you doing out of bed, young lady?" He asked, his breath hot on her neck. His hand was still on her shoulder. She whirled around. Now, his bony hand rested on her breasts. She took a step backwards.  
  
"I've got a pass." She mumbled, shoving it at him. He inspected it carefully.  
  
"All right, you may go," he said slowly. Hermione practically ran the rest of the corridor. When she reached the end, she turned to look back. He was still standing there, staring at her.  
  
********************  
  
The next morning, Harry got up early to study for a Potions exam that he would be taking the next day. Then, there was a knock on the door. It was Ron, who wanted to study with him. They went to the girls' dormitory to find Hermione. Instead, they found Lavender, who looked worried.  
  
"Have you seen Hermione?" Ron and Lavender said at exactly the same moment. Lavender's face got even more distressed looking. "She got in late last night. She had nightmares all night long," she said pointing to Hermione's bed. "She was thrashing around and screaming in her sleep." Harry gazed at Hermione's bed. The covers were a tangled mess. "I tried to talk to her this morning. But she wouldn't even look at me! Last I saw of her, she was leaving the common room."  
  
Ron and Harry looked at each other. Ron shrugged.  
  
"You still want to study in the library?" he asked.  
  
"No thanks," said Harry. "I think I'm going to take a walk in the snow." Ron shrugged again.  
  
"Alright, see you." Harry climbed out of the portrait hole and found his way to the Great Hall. He left out the big front doors and jogged down to the lake. There, he found Hermione. 


	4. The Lake

Hermione was huddled by the lakeside, her back against a snowdrift. She was sobbing, and tears were streaming down her face, which was draped with her loose hair. Harry went and sat down next to her.  
  
"Mione." He said quietly.  
  
"Go away, just go away, Harry!" Hermione choked. "Why won't anyone leave me alone?" She cried, and burst out in fresh tears. Harry sighed internally. This was going to take awhile.  
  
"Look, Hermione." Harry said. "It will feel better to talk about it, whatever it is. Hermione, you can trust me. You know that, don't you?"  
  
"I don't- want to- talk about it!" she said through her sobs.  
  
"Hermione, just let it out. I promise I'll listen. Isn't that what friends are for?" Harry said.  
  
"Are you my friend Harry?" Hermione said. Her sobs got louder. Harry ran his hand through his hair, making it even more untidy. He sighed. He was Hermione's friend. But lately, he thought to himself, I've really been ignoring her. Something else occurred to him. He hadn't picked up on her thoughts. And they were supposed to be an alarm bell and a blaring siren. Harry silently cursed himself. All he had felt was a minor uneasiness.  
  
"I am your friend, Hermione. I guess- I haven't really been acting like it lately, I know. I'm really sorry!" He said, hoping that was enough. Hermione turned to face him. Her blue eyes looked enormous, swollen with teardrops.  
  
"Voldemort killed my father." She said in a short lived burst of calm. Then, she dissolved into tears again. Harry put his arm around her as she cried her heart out.  
  
Through her tears he managed to understand that she felt responsible for her father's death. She wept,  
  
"If I hadn't been a witch, father would have died!" She leaned against his shoulder, and he enveloped her in his arms, reassuring her.  
  
Harry had thought he would feel uncomfortable as he held her, sharing her pain, but he was oddly content, though his heart was bursting for his best friend. He had never known parents, so their loss was not as exceedingly painful as it was for Hermione, who had gotten the chance to love her parents.  
  
He leaned down to murmur something to her, causing her to look up. Harry caught his breath. His lips were millimeters away from hers. Her hair and eyelashes were frosted with snowflakes. Slowly he pressed his lips against hers. Was it right to take advantage of her when she was baring her very soul to him? Harry didn't know, but the kiss felt right.  
  
When it ended, Hermione turned her face to the ground. Harry helped her get up. Emerging from behind the snowdrift, they came face to face with the person whom they least wanted to see at that moment- Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Potter and Mudblood, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…" He got no further. Making a fist, Hermione slugged him across the face. He lost his balance and fell into the lake. Harry and Hermione turned their backs on him and walked toward the castle.  
  
Meanwhile, a slit-pupiled face watched the whole scene with hungry, red eyes. 


	5. The Yule Ball

A/N: Hooray, I've reached thirteen! My goal is for 40, so pleeeeease review! P.S. Oops, I made a mistake: Cho has black hair, not blonde! So here it is:  
  
Chapter Five: The Yule Ball  
  
The next four days flew by for Harry, although he saw little of Hermione. One of the only times he saw her was in Potions, and even that was little more than a glimpse. She had adopted the habit of scurrying in a few seconds before the bell sounded. By then, all the seats near the front had been taken and she took the one at the very back by the door. After class she would scurry out again and Harry wouldn't see her until Divination. The small voice in his head whispered that she was avoiding him...  
  
Meanwhile, thoughts about the Yule Ball raced around Harry's head. He felt a nagging guilt at the back of his mind. Cho had agreed to go to the Yule Ball with him, but didn't kissing Hermione make a difference? Harry sighed. He never knew what girls would think next.  
  
What would he wear? What would Cho be wearing? His bottle green robes had grown short at the sleeves, so he traded them for a dark emerald. Cho had said she would wear royal purple. Harry decided he'd purchase a white wrist corsage for her. White was always safe.  
  
The morning of the Yule Ball, Harry woke up with knots in his stomach. He jumped out of bed and got into the shower. By nine, he was showered and had thrown on an old robe. He ate little of his scrambled eggs at breakfast.  
  
As four o' clock rolled around, Harry almost couldn't see for nervousness. He went upstairs and pulled on his dress robes. He ran a comb through his hair, along with some SMOOTHwizard gel.  
  
At 4:56, Harry couldn't stand waiting anymore. He straightened his robes, and strode out of the portrait hole. Arriving at the Great Hall a few minutes later, he found the party had just gotten into swing. Turning around and around, he tried to catch a glimpse of Cho. Suddenly he saw her.  
  
She was wearing royal purple, just as she had said. Harry gulped; the robe was completely sheer. Underneath the floaty purple overrobe, she wore a sparkly silver spaghetti strap dress that ended half a foot below her thighs. Her eyes sparkled silver. Her lips were colored a deep plum. The long, straight, jet-black hair that normally brushed her lower back was gathered in loose ringlets at the crown of her head. The end of each had been dipped in silver glitter.  
  
Spotting Harry, she sauntered up to him on her three inch silver platform sandals.  
  
"What do you think?" she questioned him, spinning on her heels. Harry's eyes boggled. There was no back to the dress.  
  
"Super," he somehow managed to get out smoothly. "Want to dance?" Harry's brain screamed at him, "What are you doing blockhead? But his traitor hands took Cho's, and they started whirling slowly around the dance floor. Glancing to the side, Harry had the satisfaction of seeing Draco Malfoy staring at him openmouthed as Pansy Parkinson dragged impatiently at his arm. The dancing went on, and Harry looked down at Cho's enormous brown eyes and felt something inside of him flare.  
  
His stomach dropped as he spotted Hermione at the side wearing robes of pure, glimmering white. But when Cho's body brushed his own, the familiar fire between his legs suddenly got all the more intense.  
  
The dance wore on for two more hours, when suddenly, Harry felt Cho's hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Wanna go?" she murmured low, flashing him a grin.  
  
"Sure," he said. "I've had enough."  
  
They strode down the dim halls. Harry glanced at Cho, then suddenly pulled her into an empty classroom. She leaned against him, hands on his chest. He leaned down and kissed her. Her tongue slid into his mouth and she put her hands on his shoulders. He put his hand up the slit in her robes and pushed her gently down onto the couch in the corner. Pulling the sheer purple robe off, Harry slid his hand under the straps of her tight, silver dress. He pulled the top of it down slowly. Her breasts were snowy white and perfect. Almost automatically, his mouth went to her breast, tongue circling it gently.  
  
Suddenly, the door burst open, and Hermione stared at the scene before her. Cho Chang was naked to the waist, and Harry's mouth was on her breasts.  
  
Harry looked up with horror. Hermione stood in the doorway, her snowy robes torn and bloodied. Her face was tearstained.  
  
"Hermione-" he said, before she exploded.  
  
"Where's the Harry that said he would always be there for me?" she screamed at him, sobbing.  
  
"Who did this to you?" he cried, leaping up. Her only answer was to turn and run down the hall. He took off after her, but lost her in the maze of corridors.  
  
All he could do was go to the common room and stare at the ceiling, sick with guilt and worry. Ron came in at midnight, looking grave.  
  
"Filch raped her." He explained softly when Harry asked him frantically. "They found her outside. She's in the hospital wing. Harry turned away. Ron sat down next to him and slung an arm around him as they suffered silently together. 


End file.
